


Let Me See You Stripped

by Soronya



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Bets & Wagers, First Kiss, M/M, Sexual Tension, Stripping, Summer, mentions of Magic Mike XXL, questionable choice of music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:00:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25954873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Soronya/pseuds/Soronya
Summary: Schneider lost a bet against Richard, who can't come up with a decent punishment until he watches a certain movie.
Relationships: Richard Kruspe/Christoph Schneider | Doom
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: Rammstein - Hot Summer Challenge





	Let Me See You Stripped

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I am back with yet another Rammstein fic. I can't believe how much I write for this fandom. Damn. This one is, once again, for a challenge of the [R+ Discord Server](https://discord.gg/rammstein). Feel free to join us!  
> A huge thank you goes out to [Nikki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikoNotHere) for being a fabulous beta! Thank you for your advice and your encouragement!  
> For everyone who doesn't know Magic Mike XXL and hasn't seen this movie yet, I highly recommend you to watch it. That film is a gift, I swear. For a better understanding of one scene in this fanfic, I suggest you watch [this video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KsdFgC_8pb0) before you read the story.  
> The title is a line from Rammstein's song "Stripped" - it seemed surprisingly fitting.

It is hot.

Too damn hot to be honest.

Too hot to even move a limb because you already start sweating when you do just as much as blinking. And if that isn’t already bad enough, Richard also has a hangover that is quite severe. He still feels a bit nauseated and his headache almost killed him when he got up this morning.

But after taking two ibuprofen and pressing a cooling pack against his forehead, it has become slightly better by now. 

Finally. 

He really shouldn’t have been drinking so much yesterday, but he and Schneider had so much fun that Richard forgot about his rule never to drink one too many. Both of them stayed at the party till the morning hours, quite contrary to the rest of their band, who bid their good-byes around midnight. 

A few weeks ago, the whole band concordantly decided to rent a house at the Baltic Sea to try and record a few new songs, or at least brainstorm some ideas together. The months and even years before had been a mess regarding their rehearsals and potential new songs, so they agreed it would be time to go on a holiday together this summer. Whether something would come out of it or not – well, they’d see eventually. 

None of them expected it to become a summer this hot, with temperatures beyond thirty degrees even at the seaside. So they mostly spent their days at the beach now, doing only the absolutely necessary. Their original plan of recording as many songs as possible was abandoned pretty quickly after arriving at the holiday house.

Richard moves around in the armchair he sits in, trying to reach the TV remote that lays on the coffee table without getting up. Of course, he is out of luck today. With a deep sigh, Richard stands up to retrieve it and curses himself again for drinking so much. Equally bad was his decision to not leave with Paul, Till, Flake and Olli hours before he did. All because of Schneider and this stupid bet.

Richard smirks as he remembers that he is at least the winner of it and thus, maybe the pain he is in right now is worth it. Schneider accused him of cheating at first, but since they didn’t specify the gender of the people to collect the phone numbers from, he quickly agreed Richard had won.

The bet was incredibly dull and to be fair, both of them are actually way too old by now to pull off that kind of shit. However, the beach party was merry and boozy and they were fooling around like teenagers. So of course, when Schneider dared him to ask a woman for her number, Richard immediately accepted – with the premise of Schneider doing the same. 

It quickly evolved into a bet who could collect the most phone numbers until three o’clock in the morning and both of them were very eager to win. More fun than actually collecting those numbers was watching the other one failing to get one and once, Schneider almost got involuntarily showered in beer. Richard simply laughed his ass off at it.

Once it became closer to three a.m., Richard realised he apparently was losing and Schneider was the one with more little pieces of paper in his back pocket. Surprisingly, Richard was very quick-witted despite the intake of alcohol he already had and came up with a solution to turn the outcome around. 

Instead of just asking women for their phone number, Richard decided to try his luck with some men, too – and he succeeded, much to Schneider’s displeasure. However, his tactic paid off since it brought Richard the desired result of being the winner.

Sadly, his brain is nothing but mush right now so Richard didn’t have the chance yet to think of a way to let Schneider suffer for his lost bet. But he is in no rush. If it takes a month to come up with a good idea, then Schneider will have to wait, which is already some kind of punishment.

Richard focuses on the TV and zaps through some channels, not finding anything that is worth watching – not even without paying almost no attention. He absolutely doesn’t need to listen to idiots screaming at each other in a staged reality show. To be fair, he doesn’t really expect anything good to be on since it is only a bit past eleven o’clock – usually not a time he’d spent in front of the TV.

Especially since it is another one of those too damn hot days. They are suffering through a heat period that is quite atypical for Germany and as much as Richard loves the summer, right now he is willing to pay a fair amount of money for a little bit of rain. 

Meanwhile, the rest of the band makes good use of the sunny day and already went out early. Olli and Paul borrowed some surfboards and are going stand-up paddling together, while Till chills at the beach and Flake, of course, goes for a walk and explores flora and fauna on his own. They haven’t even bothered to ask Richard and Schneider whether they would have liked to join them. Apparently, they already knew both of them were and still are not in the right condition for anything.

Richard groans as he zaps to yet another channel since the daily news isn’t a good entertainment right now, either. His search for a decent show gets interrupted by some clattering and distressing noises coming from the kitchen, followed by Schneider shouting  _ fuck  _ loudly.

“Are you alright?” Richard asks, slightly raising his voice so Schneider can hear him.

“I’m fine,” Schneider replies. “Just… the fucking cupboard with the Tupperware! Who the fuck stores so many containers in a holiday apartment?”

“What did you do?” Richard wants to know, though he can already make a guess.

“The obvious,” Schneider answers, coming from the kitchen to the living room. The black shirt he wears is sleeveless and crinkled, his shorts are made of linen and don’t even reach over his knees. His hair is slightly dishevelled, a sign that he ran his hand through it a few times by now. “I wanted one container and accidentally emptied the whole cupboard onto the floor.”

Richard snorts, clearly amused. “Yeah, have fun tidying up.”

Schneider sighs deeply. “Fuck you; I thought you’d help.”

“Hell no,” Richard laughs. “See it as the winner’s advantage of yesterday’s bet.”

“You won’t be able to play that card forever, Richard,” Schneider says, squinting his eyes. “My betting debt is not  _ that _ huge.”

“Oh, you don’t know that,” Richard chuckles and stretches in his armchair. “Since I can choose how to afflict you, I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you.”

“Just – choose something, Richard,” Schneider tells him in annoyance. “This is ridiculous, anyway.”

“Don’t think you can get out of this only by calling the whole bet  _ ridiculous _ ,” Richard clarifies with a raised eyebrow. “Especially since it was your idea, after all.”

“I was drunk,” Schneider defends himself, running his hand over his face. “Please remind me next time not to engage in that kind of stupidity.”

“Duly noted,” Richard answers. “But as long as I come out of it on top I don’t really mind.”

“But I do,” Schneider objects and fumbles with the collar of his shirt. “Honestly, I am just too old for this shit.”

“You sounded different yesterday,” Richard retorts with a smug grin on his lips and starts imitating Schneider. “ _ We’re still young, Reesh. I am sure we can collect a lot of phone numbers. Just look at us _ .”

“Please don’t remind me.” Schneider groans, putting his palm over his eyes as Richard laughs at him. “Anyway. I will tidy up the mess in the kitchen now. Seriously, if I could, I’d throw everything into the trash.”

“Have fun,” Richard replies and Schneider shows him his middle finger.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Richard answers, but Schneider is already back in the kitchen, grumbling some swear words.

Still chuckling, Richard puts his attention back onto the TV, realising the ad break is finally over and a movie is playing. Richard watches as a group of men approaches a roadhouse, cheering for one of them who looks quite sceptical considering the others’ excitement.

That man with the sceptical look on his face is quite handsome, Richard thinks. Tall, with dark tousled hair and a hint of grey in his stubble. He’s wearing a  _ Metallica  _ tank top and comfortable looking sweatpants. Before entering the shop alone, he runs his hand through his hair after the others reassured him again that he was able to do it – whatever  _ it _ might be.

The man looks around and his gaze falls onto the cashier, a girl with her blond hair tied in a ponytail whose gaze is fixed on her cell phone. Richard shortly thinks he’s gonna hit on her and that he is way too old for her before the man turns around. Just at that moment, the song  _ I want it that way _ by  _ The Backstreet Boys _ starts playing. 

Richard raises an eyebrow as the man bows down, his ass up in the air, to fix his shoelace. When he straightens, he flexes his muscles, accentuating his strong arms and broad chest. With a glance towards the cashier, he realises she still doesn’t pay him attention. Walking down the aisle, his hips swaying to the rhythm of the song, he grabs a bag of Cheetos. He spins around, ripping it open and splattering its content all over himself. This, finally, makes the girl raise her gaze and look at him sceptically.

Richard grins, laughter bubbling up inside of him at the intended ridiculousness of that scene. The guy clearly doesn’t take himself too seriously. His dancing moves are good and fluid, though, and from the outside of the roadhouse, the rest of the boys cheers him on.

He makes his way over to two fridges, leaning against one while facing it and moving his hips in a very sexual manner, making it look like he’s humping it. When the tension of the song intensifies, he opens the fridge, grabs a bottle of cold water and turns around. He runs the bottle over his arm, then his nipple, before opening it.

As he places the bottle in front of his crotch, bucking up his hips and spilling the water, Richard can’t help himself anymore. He starts laughing out loud and snorts in amusement, all while his gaze is glued onto the screen.

The man pours out the rest of the water over his head before throwing the bottle away. Then, he walks towards the cashier, who still doesn’t look impressed. Richard wonders how the woman could have kept a straight face while filming this.

Taking off his shirt and tossing it away, the man starts dancing rhythmically to the song, moving his hips and showing off his stomach muscles. It looks quite sexy, even with the underlying self-irony the whole scene radiates, but mostly, it’s simply entertaining and amusing.

Suddenly, an idea flashes up in Richard’s mind and he smirks, just as the man on-screen slides over the floor and ends up directly in front of the counter. He continues moving, humping the floor this time, while looking up to the girl and flashing her a wide grin. Finally, he gets up, finishing his strip performance by swaggering a few steps forward, and asks the cashier: “How much for the Cheetos and water?”

She cracks him a broad smile and Richard bursts into laughter again, scarcely as the scene ends. He doesn’t realise that Schneider enters the room until he stands right beside him. Richard startles a bit, but grins widely at him. Schneider is obviously finished with tidying up the kitchen and he looks down at Richard with a frown. 

“What’s so funny?” he wants to know.

“The movie,” Richard gestures towards the screen. “There was an awesome scene.”

“What happened?” Schneider asks, as he looks at the TV, only to see the guys sitting together in the back of a bus. “Doesn’t look that funny if you ask me.”

“You missed the best,” Richard answers and smirks. “And it gave me an idea.”

Schneider sighs. “That doesn’t sound too promising.”

“I know now how you can pay for your gambling debts.”

“Oh god,” Schneider groans. “I am not sure whether I wanna know.”

Richard raises his forefinger and gives Schneider a stern look. “Thou shalt honour thy gambling debts!” he exclaims before breaking into laughter. Schneider just rolls his eyes.

“Shoot, Reesh,” Schneider tells him. “I don’t have all day.”

“Oh, but you do, actually, don’t you?” Richard says, wiggling his eyebrows. “Since, you know, the others are gone for probably the whole day and it’s not like you’re in any condition to be productive today, are you?”

Schneider presses the heels of his hands onto his eyes, before running them down his face and taking a deep breath. “Okay, okay,” he sighs acquiescently. “What do you want me to do?”

“Strip.”

“ _ What _ ?” Schneider exclaims loudly, hoping imploringly Richard is joking. But the shit-eating smirk on Richard’s face tells him that he is, in fact, not kidding him.

“I want you to strip,” Richard repeats himself. “But, like, not just undressing yourself.”

“But…?” Schneider inquires, although he knows it is a bad idea. And yet, it’s not as if Richard would simply let go.

“But with music and stuff,” Richard explains. “Like, you know, a stripper on stage.”

Schneider’s jaw drops, but he pulls himself together quite quickly. “What kind of movie are you watching that gives you such an idea?”

Richard realises he didn’t even check what he was watching, since the whole scene was so mesmerising that he simply forgot. He opens the channel information which tells him the movie that is on is called  _ Magic Mike XXL _ . It’s nothing that rings a bell for Richard, but Schneider obviously has heard of it before, since he groans in despair.

“No,” he says assertively and shakes his head. “Nope. Nein. Non. нет. Not gonna happen.”

“You know this movie?” Richard asks in surprise.

“Not that one,” Schneider admits. “But the prequel. I know what it’s about. I know what these guys are doing. And I can’t do it. I  _ won’t  _ do it.”

“What are they doing?” Richard wants to know innocently, although his question is purely rhetorical.

“They are strippers, Richard,” Schneider deadpans. “And those who play them are actors. And truly good dancers. They know what they’re doing. I don’t. And I will probably make a fool out of myself.”

“That is the plan,” Richard explains, his grin becoming even broader. “And you can’t back out now. It’s too late for that. You should have thought about this before you placed the bet.”

“Oh fuck you, Richard,” Schneider says, defeated. He runs a hand through his hair, mussing it more, and a strand falls into his face. “You know there will be payback.”

“No payback,” Richard denies. “This is what we agreed on. The loser has to do one thing the winner tells him to do, no matter what it is.”

“Fine,” Schneider spits. “But if you record this or  _ anyone  _ gets to know about it, I’m gonna murder you, I swear.”

Richard raises his hands in defiance, shaking his head and trying to be all earnest for a second. He doesn’t really succeed. “No recording, I promise.”

Schneider sighs and looks up at the ceiling as if someone could magically appear from there to help him out of his misery. To his bad luck, nobody seems to be in the mood for a rescue.

“I can’t believe I am doing this,” Schneider mutters and grinds his teeth. “What do you want me to do?”

“Just… move to the music, I guess,” Richard shrugs, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“What music?” Schneider sounds  _ and  _ looks annoyed. He definitely wants to bring it past him.

Richard waves his hand, gesturing him to wait for a moment, as he scrolls through the menu of his phone, searching for Spotify. “Gimme a second!”

“Richard,” Schneider addresses him and Richard looks up, one eyebrow raised suspiciously. “Can’t you think of anything else?”

“Why would I?”

“This is humiliating.”

“That’s the point,” Richard says, putting his concentration back on his phone and finally opening the music app. “It’s embarrassing for you and very entertaining for me. It is a win-win situation.”

“If you ask me, this is a lose-lose situation,” Schneider grumbles.

“But I don’t ask you,” Richard chimes, choosing the song he was looking for and pressing the play button. 

“Seriously?” Schneider asks, an upset look on his face as he recognises the song. “ _ The Backstreet Boys _ , Richard?”

Richard shrugs and smiles lopsidedly. “It was in the movie. And now stop complaining. Start dancing.”

“I hate you,” Schneider curses at him and shifts his weight from one leg to the other in an uncomfortable manner, clearly wanting to leave the room. The house. The  _ country _ . 

Yet, this can hardly be called dancing at all and Richard growls. “Dancing, Schneider. I know you can do it.”

“Fuck you, Richard. Fuck. You,” Schneider answers, squinting his eyes, and he bashfully starts tapping his foot on the floor to the rhythm. Richard is just about to complain again, but at the exact moment, Schneider timidly begins swaying his shoulders. It looks ridiculous since Schneider’s body seems uncommonly stiff and it is not at all comparable with the fluid motions he does while sitting behind his drums.

Precisely what Richard aimed for. He sits in his chair with a smug smile on his lips, watching Schneider squirming uncomfortably under his gaze. With the second verse, Schneider slightly raises his arms, making it look not even a bit less laughable.

His face is red with embarrassment and his hands are shaking as he spreads out his arms, trying – and failing – to reenact a movement popular amongst boy bands. Almost, but only almost, Richard feels pity for him, before he reminds himself that this is perfectly fair. Since it was himself who won the bet and not Schneider, Richard got to choose the punishment. And if Schneider had been the winner, he would have found something equally humiliating.

Richard has to suppress his laughter and scolds himself for agreeing not to record this or at least be allowed to take photos. Schneider keeps glaring at him as the first chorus begins, his arms raised over his head, showing a sliver of the skin of his belly. He bites on his lower lip and takes a deep breath, before closing his eyes.

Schneider begins moving his hips, rotating them and suddenly, the grin on Richard’s face freezes. With the world shut out, Schneider’s movements become more fluid, his whole body is adapting to the rhythm and although this is completely the opposite of the music he likes, he looks like a fish in the water.

The whole situation shifts from ridiculous to somewhat sexy and it gets worse as Schneider thrusts his hips forward, meeting nothing but thin air, but Richard  _ knows _ how they feel when they meet his ass. Schneider demonstrated this more than once and now, Richard’s mouth gets dry.

With his hand wandering from his collar bone over his chest down to his ass, Schneider reopens his eyes, staring at Richard. The spite in them is gone, replaced by a look that Richard can’t really describe. Schneider’s piercing blue eyes are fixated on him as he pushes his shirt up with his other hand, giving Richard a glimpse of his bare skin for only mere moments.

Richard leans forward in his armchair, readjusting himself as he licks over his lips absentmindedly. He should interrupt it, call it off and tell Schneider he paid his debts. But he is mesmerised by those hips, by how Schneider pushes his thumb into the hem of his shorts, before turning around and looking back over his shoulder.

He slowly lifts his top, shows off the small of his back before dropping the fabric again and groping his own ass. Richard’s heartbeat speeds up as Schneider winks at him, suddenly being the one with the smirk on his face.

This is definitely not what Richard imagined when he thought of this as a decent punishment for Schneider losing his bet. Richard feels hot – and not only because of the weather. His breath quickens and his dick starts to get interested, too, as Schneider takes off his shirt for real.

Schneider turns around again and now Richard has a full view on his chest. Even though he turned fifty last year, Schneider’s still fit and trained. Sure, his stomach and his chest aren’t as muscular as they were years ago, but he’s still lean and athletic. Due to his drumming, his biceps are impressive, and the veins that stand out on his arms are incredibly sexy.

With the second chorus, Schneider slides closer to Richard in one fluid motion, invading his personal space, and thrusts his hips again, once, twice, thrice. Richard forgets how to breathe as Schneider runs his palm down his own body, scrapes one nail over his nipple and ends up resting his thumbs on the hem of his trousers.

Schneider pushes Richard’s legs apart and sinks to his knees, moving his upper body in one fluid motion like a snake. Suddenly, he’s close, way too close for Richard’s taste right now and yet not close enough. Richard’s cock twitches in his pants and he can’t just cross his legs to hide it, because Schneider is right between them.

Schneider leans forward, his face only inches away from Richard’s, his hands running up his thighs.  _ You are my fire, the one desire _ , Schneider mouths along the lyrics and Richard can feel his hot breath on his skin. A desire to lean forward and kiss Schneider runs through his body and he has to force himself to sit still.

Only mere seconds later, Schneider is gone from in between his legs and is standing in front of him again, swaying his hips in a manner that should be illegal.  _ Fuck _ , Richard thinks,  _ fuck, fuck, fuck _ . He’s hard and he wants to touch Schneider, wants to feel the hot skin beneath his fingertips, wants his lips on that body.

Schneider opens the button of his pants and Richard’s eyes become wide. He pushes them down only an inch, holding them in place, before he rolls his hips and pulls his shorts up again. As he closes the button, the corner of his mouth quirks into a grin. Schneider knows he’s in charge now, that the tide has turned and Richard should have known, too, should have expected his body to react in this way.

Schneider is handsome and sexy, he’s got a perfect body, a beautiful face and the most amazing eyes Richard’s ever seen – of course his desire would surge up within him and he wouldn’t be able to laugh it off. It isn’t since yesterday that he finds Schneider attractive, but acting out on it without consent and a hint – or maybe five – that his feelings could be reciprocated, he rather keeps his mouth shut before he risks the existence of his band.

Richard watches in awe as Schneider twirls on the spot, showing off his ass and bows down, quite similar to the man in the movie. His ass is round and muscular and perfect and Richard just  _ wants _ . His brain is empty, his thoughts circle around his desire and as Schneider sinks to the floor, pretending to hump the carpet, a low whimper escapes Richard’s mouth. Thankfully, the music seems to be loud enough so Schneider hopefully doesn’t catch it.

Schneider turns around, now on his back, before swiftly rising to his feet again, walking towards Richard like a predator, his motions fluid like those of a cat. He positions himself between Richard’s legs again, but this time he’s standing and looking down on him. His hands are left and right beside Richard’s head, bracing himself on the backrest of the chair. Richard has to tilt his head back to look into Schneider’s eyes that glint with mischief.

The song fades out and Richard realises Schneider is breathing heavily and sweat glistens on his forehead. Richard can’t help himself and puts a hand into Schneider’s nape, pulling his face closer to his own. 

“Fuck, Schneider,” Richard huffs and realises he’s panting, too. “That was… unexpectedly hot.”

He bites his lips as it dawns on him that he accidentally said the last words out loud. So much for not spilling the tea. Richard drops his gaze, hoping if he just stared at a spot at his feet Schneider would forget about it. But he has no such luck.

“Richard,” he addresses him, his voice soft. “Look at me.”

Richard obeys, his heart hammering in his chest, anxious of what to expect.

“I am going to kiss you now,” Schneider tells him, matter-of-factly, and Richard barely has a chance to process his words, before he feels soft and warm lips on his own. His eyes fall shut and he buries the hand on Schneider’s nape in his hair, pulling him closer. Schneider runs his tongue over Richard’s lips, asking for admission. Richard opens his mouth willingly, greedily welcoming Schneider in and groaning as his tongue meets his own. Schneider tastes good, earthy and warm and wonderful, and Richard wants more. He licks into Schneider’s mouth, over his lips and teeth, feeling his stubble against his chin all the while.

They break the kiss long moments later, both gasping for air, foreheads pressed against each other. Their eyes meet and both of them break into a wide smile. 

“This wasn’t the first time you did this, was it?” Richard asks lowly, careful not to ruin the moment.

“You’re right,” Schneider admits after a short moment of hesitation. “Do you mind?”

“Hell, no,” Richard huffs, shaking his head vehemently. After some seconds, he adds out of curiosity: “When was the first time you stripped for someone?”

Schneider sighs deeply, but it doesn’t sound resentful. Instead of a direct answer, he brings his mouth close to Richard’s ear, hot breath puffing against his sensitive skin. “Do you really wanna talk about this right now?”

Richard doesn’t even hesitate to reply. There are definitely better things to do now than talking. “No. No, you’re right,” he whispers. “Not now.”

“I thought not,” Schneider says, facing him and grinning. He runs a hand through Richard’s hair and lays it onto the back of his head, pulling him in again for yet another astonishing kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! Don't forget to check out the other fics in this collection for the Hot Summer prompt! As always, kudos and comments are highly appreciated!


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